I Use my Hair to Express Myself!
by RitzyGreen
Summary: Sketchbook plays with the puppet trio's hair.


A/N: Just my attempt at humor with a few headcanons thrown in. I also call the yellow guy Doi in this.

* * *

It was a little-known fact that Sketchbook liked to play with hair.

Of course, everyone knew she used her own hair to express herself as she made a point of singing it to every creature she came across. What most folks didn't know however was that Sketchbook loved to style other people's hair too.

Brushing, cutting, coloring, tying it up-it was all so much fun! She didn't care what that red student said, expressing yourself through your hair was _awesome_.

Besides, what sounded more boring? Restyling your hair every day so it matched your mood, or just sticking with the same old drab do all the time?

It was such a shame, Sketchbook would think as she watched the trio of students roam around the house. They had so much potential for creativity, but they let it all go to waste!

The three decided to let her stay with them (or more accurately she refused to leave) after the lesson went horribly wrong, and although she'd first been scared of them she soon accepted the students as quirky but normally harmless roommates.

Even though she appreciated how they tried to avoid her at all costs, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of frustration every time she saw them. If only they'd wear hair clips, or get a trim, or something!

It was then that a brilliant idea popped into her brain, and Sketchbook flipped to the page that covered her face with a light bulb.

If they weren't going to fix their hair themselves, she'd just do it for them! It didn't matter if they liked their hair or not, she just had to! After all, what was she supposed to do? Just keep letting her students run around, all unoriginal and ugly? _That_ was clearly the greater evil here.

And that was how Sketchbook's little quest to restyle the trio began.

* * *

The bird was her first target.

Duck, as the others called him, undeniably had a great sense of style. However, that brilliant fashion sense was only limited to clothes. He never bothered to do anything about his feathers despite them being a hideous shade of green.

That green was probably the source of all of Duck's problems, Sketchbook realized. It was not a creative color in the slightest, and Duck was a very unimaginative bird. He rarely cared about art or crafts, instead filling his mind with all of those useless facts and numbers. The green was obviously polluting his mind, stopping him from fully embracing creativity in a safe and non-violent manner. Sketchbook had to save him!

So one night before Duck went to take a soak, Sketchbook sneaked into the bathroom and poured several containers of some hair bleach into the tub.

She didn't know much about the product except what had been advertised on the telly; that it could turn even the darkest of hairs into beautiful blond locks. It seemed perfect for her plans.

Nevermind the bleach having an absurdly long list of warnings and side effects on its label. Duck's looks and creativity were at stake! The reward was more than worth the risks. Sketchbook did take one thing into consideration though before she bought the product (using Red's credit card, of course); the smell.

She couldn't smell because of her lack of a nose, but she knew bleach had a funny scent. Or at least that's what Tony had told her, before going back to sleep on the wall because he didn't want to get involved with her 'stupid' plans.

So Sketchbook also bought a ton of perfume (again using Red's credit card) that claimed to smell like roses. She wasn't sure whether roses smelt good or bad, but everyone seemed to love how they looked, so it only stood to reason that they smelt nice too.

After filling the tub up with the hair bleach, she poured in all the perfume. She didn't know if it was successful in hiding the scent, but she figured it was good enough. Then realizing a tub full of pink liquid was just a tad bit suspicious, she covered its surface with bubbles.

Sketchbook hurried into the hall and waited for Duck to appear. What felt like forever passed before Duck finally left the bedroom. He strolled right past her, not even noticing that the object teacher was in the middle of the hall.

When he reached the bathroom he stopped and pinched his beak, a funny expression on his face. For a moment Sketchbook worried he wouldn't go in, but then the bird sighed and mumbled something about not letting Doi clean the bathroom by himself again and stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

Minutes passed, and soon two hours. That wasn't Sketchbook being impatient either, she checked Tony just to be sure it was taking that long. Why would anyone spend so much time in the bath? It was rude to hog the bathroom all to yourself. What if somebody got covered in rotting fish meat and needed a shower? Or got sick from eating aspic or plain white sauce or whatever else and needed the toilet? Honestly, Duck was being _so_ inconsiderate right now.

She wasn't the only one who thought so either because soon Red walked down the hall with a towel draped over his arm. He knocked the bathroom door sharply- once, twice, a third time, before calling out in that dull voice of his, "Duck, are you done yet? It's my turn."

No answer.

"Duck?"

Still no answer. Red shifted slightly, a subtle movement that Sketchbook learned through a lot of observation meant he was worried, and grabbed the doorknob.

"I'm coming in." Red opened the door and stepped inside. Sketchbook pressed herself against the wall and listened. Several noises came from the bathroom; first Red muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a swear, then water sloshing around, and finally, Duck groaning in pain.

Sketchbook peered through the doorway. Duck was wrapped head to toe inside a giant, fluffy towel and Red was busy trying to drain the tub. As soon as he pulled the plug he ran to the sink and rinsed his arm with cold water.

Red then picked up the bird under one arm, turned on the air vent, and plopped Duck into the middle of the hall. He almost stepped on Sketchbook on his way out too, not that he noticed, the self-centered jerk.

After he shut the door, Red turned to face Duck, his arms crossed. "What happened?"

"Uhm.. got in the bath, water burnt so I tried to make it cold…" Duck slurred, his words muffled because of the towel. "Got really dizzy, so took a nap… Everythin' hurts..."

"What did you put in the bath?"

"Huh?"

"What was in the tub? It wasn't water."

"I don't know." Duck's words became more enunciated, and Sketchbook assumed it was because he was starting to wake up from his weird bath nap. "I thought Doi made a bubble bath for me to apologize for getting the living room dirty."

"Doi's been asleep since dinner."

"Oh. Well, did you draw it up?" Red shook his head. "I don't know then. It certainly smelt funny though!"

"So you thought it smelt strange, and you didn't know where it came from, but you _still_ decided to bathe in it?" Red asked, his exasperation emphasized through his typical monotone.

"I needed to be clean! I'm not some sort of slob, Red," Duck cried. The towel he'd been cocooned in shifted, falling off just far enough to reveal his face and shoulders.

Two gasps could be heard; one in horror, the other in delight.

Duck's feathers, which used to be an uncreative green, were now dyed a lovely shade of pink. Or the feathers that still clung to him were pink, at least. The rest had fallen out into the tub and were currently clogging the pipes as Sketchbook's concoction of bleach and perfume drained.

The bare patches of skin were covered in nasty, ugly burns. Normally any sort of violence that wasn't limited to works of art would upset her, but this was different. His wounds weren't open and leaking blood everywhere, so Sketchbook didn't feel queasy. Not to mention the texture! Its irregular, almost wrinkle like form vaguely reminded her of a strange bumpy paper she'd drawn on once. She wanted to grab a marker and start doodling on his skin just to see if the inked lines would turn out like they did on the paper- rough and blotchy.

"Was that stuff acid?" Red asked, examining one of Duck's arms.

Time to make her presence known, Sketchbook decided, before they went off guessing more wrong things. "Nope!"

Her cheerful voice caused the two puppets to freeze and slowly look down at the floor, where she sat beside Red's feet. Both students then suddenly backed up to the other end of the hall, and oh geez she did not know they could move that fast. "It was hair bleach and perfume!"

Duck's beak practically hit the floor. "Y-you mean you did this?"

The teacher of creativity nodded cheerfully. "Yup!"

" _Why?_ "

"So you wouldn't be uncreative anymore, duh!"

"You said you didn't want us being creative ever again!"

"That was before I realized it was just the green making you act bad! It was messing up your creative flow. With it gone, you can finally start making proper art! You can thank me now, preferably in the form of a portrait."

But instead of being grateful, Duck threw such a fit! He started babbling and squawking about just how awful the teachers were, and that it'd take ages before his ugly green feathers grew back. Red was upset too, and Sketchbook ended up having to hide because the tall student kept trying to throw her out the nearest window.

Sketchbook was convinced the whole affair had been worth it though because pink was certainly a step up from green.

* * *

The red guy was her next mark.

Even though he was a very dull, rude, and all around boring guy, he had some of the loveliest hair Sketchbook had ever seen.

It was comprised of long, crimson locks that looked just like yarn. It was so thick that it obscured the tall student's face completely except for the eyes that rested on top of his head. Sketchbook wasn't sure why anyone would want to hide their face, but she figured it was probably because he was really ugly. But hey, it couldn't have been worse than Shrignold's, and who cared what his mug looked like with hair like that?

What impressed Sketchbook the most about his 'do though was just how neat it was.

Even though it looked just like a mop, Red always made sure to keep it well groomed. Despite being long enough to fall past his shoulders, he never seemed to get knots in it. Seeing how her own much shorter hair was often a tangled curly mess, Sketchbook thought his maintenance was rather impressive.

That wasn't even going into how clean he kept it either! Not once had she seen a crumb in it, even though that seemed like something that definitely should've happened by now because his hair covered his mouth. Though to be fair, she wasn't exactly sure how Red ate since he always seemed to do so when she wasn't looking. Heck, Sketchbook wasn't even sure he had a mouth, for all she knew there could've been nothing but glitter under that curtain of hair and he absorbed food through his stomach or something. But that would be silly!

Curiosities about Red's face aside, Sketchbook had been planning her next hit very carefully.

She'd started watching Red more than she usually did and, despite Tony's accusations of her being a weirdo stalker, managed to more or less memorize his daily routine.

Each morning Red would sit in his ugly green chair and spend an hour watching the television by himself. His attention would be completely focused on the show, which was something about people in giant hamster balls being kicked off of mountains. It was absolute rubbish and made her want to tear her pages out, but Sketchbook knew it would be the perfect time to strike.

So one day she snuck up behind him, a set of pretty ribbons in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. The teacher balanced herself on top of the chair, which was pretty hard to do when you didn't have any legs and your hands were full, then pointed the scissors at the crimson bundle of locks in front of her.

Sketchbook was just about to cut off a chunk when Red suddenly whipped around and his hair sent her flying off the chair.

She landed with a very painful thud a few feet away. Red looked at her, not even bothering to get up from his seat. "What were you doing?"

Sketchbook got up with a wince, sighing as she realized the ribbons had been scattered across the floor. The scissors were right next to her and seemed fine though, so she picked them up with a flourish and grinned at the student. "Fixing your hair, of course!"

"My hair is fine."

"No, it's not!" Sketchbook scooted towards him and pointed at a tress of red. "Look how _plain_ it is!"

He sighed. "So?"

"What do you mean ' _so_ '? You've got so much, but you haven't done anything with it! You're just wasting it!"

"What a pity." Oh, Sketchbook could _feel_ the sarcasm dripping off of those words! "But it is my hair, and I can do whatever I want with it."

"But don't you ever get bored with it? Don't you want to be cool?"

"No."

"Your hairstyle says so much about you though! It's for showing the world if you're a snooty rich gentleman or a lazy bum! It tells people how you feel! Like spiky and dyed means you're mad or rebellious, and messy means you wanted to be lazy!"

Red started to twirl a few strands around his finger. "Today my hair says I just want to watch the telly in peace."

Sketchbook threw her arms up into the air. "How was I supposed to know that? How was _anyone_ supposed to know that? Your hair's too plain and your voice is so dull and you hide your face… I mean, no one can really tell what you're feeling anyway." Red tensed up. Hm. Looked like she'd hit a nerve. "Wouldn't it be easier for everyone if you just expressed yourself more?

"I am expressing myself. I like my hair this way."

The teacher was starting to get very frustrated but she still smiled at him, even if said expression was obviously forced.

"Well if you spruced it up a little, maybe you wouldn't be so boring all the time!"

"I'm not cutting my hair." Sketchbook opened her mouth and took in a deep breath. "You aren't either." She closed it. With that Red turned back to the television, obviously deciding she wasn't worth his attention. Well, she wasn't going to give up that easy!

Sketchbook glanced around the room, her eyes landing on a few ribbons she dropped earlier. That would do.

She threw the scissors to the side, not paying attention to where they landed. She heard a pained squawk from the hall and a cry of " _Who threw those?_ " Oh well, that didn't matter right now. What was important was getting all of those ribbons!

"Okay, how about instead of cutting your hair I just tie it up?"

Red sighed. "No."

"Please? I won't tangle it, I promise! Just a few pigtails!"

"No."

"Let me do a fishtail braid!"

"No."

"A ponytail?"

"No."

"A bun?"

"No. Stop talking." He leaned in closer to the television as if that would somehow make her silent.

"You _know_ you want to let me braid it," Sketchbook whined. "Come on, listen to the voices in your brain!"

"Right now they're telling me to get rid of you at our next yard sale," Red deadpanned.

Sketchbook laughed, unperturbed. "You know I'll come back!"

"There's only five minutes left of the show." Red closed his eyes and massaged his temples. "If I let you braid it, will you shut up?"

Sketchbook nodded eagerly and scribbled a zipper on her mouth just to prove how serious she was.

"Fine." He leaned back against the chair. "Just no scissors."

Sketchbook nearly squealed with glee but stopped herself before a peep came out of her mouth. She hopped up onto the top of the chair and began to weave many brightly colored ribbons through the crimson strands.

As soon as the program was over Sketchbook jumped back and admired her handiwork.

She'd given Red a halo braid with four pigtails, and he looked surprisingly good with it. She'd even venture to say he looked a little cute! Of course, he was bound to look good with it though, she was an expert artist after all. Though the teacher was a bit confused as to how his hair still managed to conceal his face after she thought she tied all of it up, but oh well.

Red strolled over to the turned off television to look at his reflection. He stared at it for several seconds while Sketchbook waited beside him, ready for the heaps of compliments and thanks he was undoubtedly going to give her.

Instead of praising her, Red just turned to her and asked in his usual monotone, "how do I get rid of it?"

"What? Why would you want to do that? It's a masterpiece!"

"It'll get in the way."

"No, you look better this way!

"If you don't get it back to normal, I will shave my head." He didn't sound like he was bluffing. Not that she'd be able to tell since there was no inflection in his voice, but still. If he was serious, she wouldn't be able to fix his hair anymore, and she'd have to see his probably super ugly face every day.

"B-but… Fine! I'll just style it again tomorrow, and glue it like that to your skull, so you'll have to wear it!"

Red sighed. "How about this? I'll let you play with my hair every day while I watch my shows, so long as you get it back to normal once the program's over."

"Wait… really?"

He nodded.

"Sure!" Sketchbook climbed up onto his shoulder to undo her work. "Tomorrow I'm going to make a beehive, then I'll make a helicopter, then a helicopter beehive…" She rambled on while her student started to go about his day.

The Red portion of her quest had been surprisingly successful. Maybe the last phase of her plan would be too.

* * *

Her final hit was the yellow boy.

Admittedly Sketchbook did not know a lot about him. In fact, he was the student she paid the least attention to. Her understanding of him was limited to three things.

One; he was not very bright.

Two; he had awful taste in colors.

Three; he looked too much like that creep Roy for comfort. Not that it was his fault of course, but the less Sketchbook was reminded of that shady puppet master the better.

Despite her ignorance on her target, Sketchbook felt confident that she'd be able to fix his hair with little fuss. Sure, he could be frustrating to teach, but with the proper guidance and a ton of ink she was certain she'd have him back on the right path in no time!

Sketchbook did have one teeny tiny problem though.

Nothing about the yellow boy's hair really bothered her.

It wasn't an ugly shade of green, and he didn't keep it boring like Red's. It wasn't neat, but it wasn't a tangled mess trying to imitate a rat's nest either. However, that didn't mean she could leave it like it was! It needed more variety, although it was too short to really do anything with…

Ideas started to pop into Sketchbook's metaphorical brain. She could try changing the color like she did with Duck's, but she wouldn't be able to buy any dye now since Red had canceled his credit card. She didn't want to waste any of her precious paint on him either, save for her black ink, but that would be such a boring color for blue to change into.

Then it hit her.

Extensions! She could get him extensions! Not ones from the store of course since her money source had been so rudely cut off by Red, but she could easily make some herself.

So Sketchbook scavenged around the house, grabbing anything that even loosely resembled strands of hair to make her newest project.

In the end she came up with a tangled mess of broom straws, loose strings, and shoelaces. It looked rather bad, but to the small teacher it was perfect.

She hid it away in the living room, safe from prying eyes and cleaning students, before waddling into the kitchen. There the yellow guy stood, staring blankly at a plate of something that vaguely resembled aspic.

"Hey, friend!" He looked up at her. "I'm going to fix your hair."

Instead of smiling though, the student looked upset. He started to back away and mumbled some nonsense under his breath about how he didn't like her.

Sketchbook resisted the urge to scowl. Really? Couldn't he have waited until she was gone before he started talking badly about her? Honestly, this boy had no tact! Nor did he have taste, because she was _clearly_ the best teacher around this joint, but whatever.

"It'll be great," she insisted. "You'll look so cool after I'm done!" The yellow guy still fidgeted nervously, and Sketchbook noticed he was eyeing the exit. "Plus it'll help with your creativity, and maybe, just maybe, you can actually be decent at art."

He stared at her with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Of course!"

The student smiled. "Okay."

"Alright Yellow, let's get started!"

"Doi."

"Huh?"

"It's Doi," he said, "not Yellow."

Now Sketchbook remembered. His name was Doi, short for Doivis. She thought it was a stupid name, but it was more creative than 'Red' or 'Duck', so she'd give it a pass.

"What will you do?" He asked.

"I'm going to use extensions!" Seeing the confused look on his face, she clarified, "I'm going to make your hair look longer, like it's grown. Then I'll style it up somehow, maybe give you a few braids and pigtails."

"Okay."

"Wait here," Sketchbook ordered, and she scampered back to the living room to grab the homemade extensions. Along the way she also took back her scissors, which for some odd reason had been placed on top of a very high shelf. Judging by the pink feathers near the blades it was probably Duck's doing, but why he did it the teacher couldn't guess.

When she came back there on the other side of the kitchen was Doi, exactly where she'd left him, but something was different.

His hair was long now. And not just a little long either, oh no, _it was trailing on the floor behind him long_. Oh mighty creators above, was there going to be another creativity explosion? Was he going to get really tall, start dancing around, and serving nasty meaty cakes?

She could try to run away, but he might follow her! If things got really trippy again too, she wouldn't be able to escape the weird dimension shifting into ugly 3D thing and… oh dear Sketchbook was getting very overwhelmed.

She quickly flipped her face to a page with a frown drawn on it and began to hyperventilate.

The yellow student, noticing her confusion and terror, tilted his head and gave her a quizzical look. "What's wrong?"

Sketchbook retched and pointed an accusing finger at his hair. "What did you do?" She shrieked.

"Uhm… I growed it?"

Any other time Sketchbook would've verbally torn him apart for that poor and unoriginal grammar, but these were dire circumstances.

"How? Hair doesn't just grow over a meter in five seconds!" Doi hesitated. "HOW?"

"Errr… like this." He scooped up the end of his hair off the floor and gave it a tug. Sketchbook watched in fascinated horror as the bundle of blue started to grow until it pooled onto the floor once more, at which point he stopped pulling it.

"Wh-what? I don't… how in the world…" She struggled to find words. If he was a teacher Sketchbook wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he was a student for crying out loud! They were supposed to be plain and stupid, and the teachers were the ones who'd mess with reality to teach them all sorts of cool stuff. Students weren't supposed to have powers!

"I can do this too." Doi's arm suddenly stretched out a few meters until his hand was right next to her. The only other person she'd ever seen who was able to do that was… oh no. "My dad is kind of bald so he can't stretch hair, but his arms grow."

"You mean Roy?"

Doi nodded. "He's my friend!"

How Roy was anyone's friend Sketchbook couldn't guess. She briefly wondered if maybe the boy didn't realize how nasty his father could be, which seemed likely considering how dim the child was, but those were questions for another day. "Oh… okay, just please go back to normal. Now."

The yellow guy tugged on his arm until it returned to its normal length, but his hair still covered the floor like some sort of fancy carpet.

"What about your hair?" Sketchbook asked.

"Uhm… can't fix that."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't ungrow. Red or Duck has to cuts it."

Whatever, Sketchbook thought. She'd just weave in the extensions with his new mane, and it would look fabulous. Then she'd chop off some of the yellow guy's hair and use that to make extensions for Red's. And a bunch of wigs. It was going to be awesome.

"Alright," she said, picking up a lock of blue that was next to her, "let's get creative!" She began to braid the extensions with his hair, thinking of how great it'd look, when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Doi, did you throw out that food like I asked?" Red called out from the living room. Sketchbook groaned, she did not need that jerk bothering them right now. He'd probably try to stop her and say she wasn't allowed to mess with anyone's hair now or something dumb like that.

"No," Doi responded. "The sketchbook told me to…" he trailed off as said teacher gestured for him to be quiet.

"The sketchbook what?" The pair could hear his footsteps coming closer to the kitchen.

"What's going on- _oof_!" Red was cut off short as he tripped over some hair. He got up with a groan and looked around the room. "Again Doi?"

"Again?" Sketchbook echoed. "Does this happen a lot?"

Red ignored her question and focused on his short friend. "What happened?"

"We're gonna fix my hair," Doi replied, a goofy grin on his lips. "But it had to be long first."

When Red gave the teacher a pointed look she tried to defend herself. "I was just going to put extensions in it!" She waved around said accessory, which was starting to fall apart. "I didn't tell him to do this!" Red's accusing stare didn't relax, if anything it seemed to harden when his eyes landed on her creation.

"I was gonna chop it off anyway," Sketchbook dropped the extension in favor of the scissors, "put together a bunch of wigs for everyone!"

Red scowled, or at least she imagined there was a scowl hidden somewhere beneath all that fur, and yanked the scissors away from her. "I'll cut his hair."

Sketchbook flipped her pages and stopped on one that had her mouth drawn as a small pout instead of its typical smile. "Aaawww, you don't trust me?"

"No."

She sighed dramatically. "You're so cruel! I was just trying to help him be more creative!"

"Don't care, now get out." Red started to snip Doi's hair.

"But-"

"If you don't leave now I'll never let you touch my hair again."

Sketchbook whined in frustration but did as she was told. It didn't take long for Red to finish, and when he was done Doi's once glorious mane was reduced to a messy little tuft on the top of his head.

She expected to see the floor covered in blue locks, but the kitchen was surprisingly clean. "Where'd it all go?"

"Where'd what go?" Red replied.

"The hair! I was going to make wigs and more extensions! Speaking of which… where did my extensions go? I worked hard on those!"

"You mean that crushed bird's nest with all of the shoelaces?" Sketchbook nodded, deciding to let that insult slide for now. "Oh, it's probably in the rubbish bin with Doi's hair."

"Why'd you throw it away?" Sketchbook shrieked. "You terrible, inconsiderate, unoriginal… ugh! When I get back, you are gonna help me fix it! You have NO choice!" With that, she rushed outside to where the rubbish bins were.

Sketchbook ended up digging through the garbage, covering herself in all sorts of nasty rubbish as she tried to find her art projects. Red, being the boring jerk that he was, decided to dump the aspic with everything else. The rotten meat jelly concoction had gotten all over everything, and she was forced to admit that both Doi's hair and her extensions were beyond saving.

To add insult to injury when she came back to the house, she discovered all the doors and windows were locked! She got inside anyway thanks to Colin's little secret passageway, but the fact that she was reduced to having to pop up in the game room still frustrated her. Gilbert's many questions of what happened and if she was alright, while sweet, certainly didn't help her mood.

Sketchbook tried to make the student trio tell her why they locked her out, but every time they saw her they ran away. She needed some sort of closure to the tragedy that was her ruined hair pieces. Sketchbook could not let this injustice against art, more specifically _her_ art, go unpunished!

After lots of whining she convinced Tony to stuff all of their pillows with rotting fish, which the students were none too pleased about. Later Bread Boy and Fridge, taking pity on her, managed to convince the Meat Man and Spinach Can to cook the students a meal which they couldn't refuse. Said meal ended up making the trio's teeth go grey and caused their hair to fall out.

Duck was inconsolable because he was starting to grow back his ugly green feathers when the meal made them fall out. He wouldn't stop crying about how he'd never be a fashion model since he kept going bald.

For some reason only the hair on the very top of Red's head fell out, leaving his eyes in a small, fuzzy, short haired patch while his face remained hidden. Sketchbook couldn't figure out how that happened, but she had a theory that he just glued the fallen strands onto his face. She was determined to believe this despite the lack of evidence.

Duck was unhappy with how little the food group's meal seemed to affect Red, and everytime the taller student tried to comfort him he'd sob that Red couldn't possibly understand what he was going through when he still had most of his hair.

Doi didn't seem bothered by the hair loss in the slightest, though that made sense since he could just grow it out whenever he wanted.

Their hair (or lack of), looked so different from what it was before. It was certainly a new style even if it wasn't quite what Sketchbook had in mind, so in the end she guessed everything worked out.

Her quest to restyle their hair, although difficult, had been a success!

* * *

A/N: The program Red was watching was about zorbing. According to the _It's Nice That_ interview it's one of his hobbies (although it's entirely possible he was just being sarcastic), and I decided it'd be more fitting to have him watch a show by himself about a subject only he cared about instead of something like _Craig's Big Day_ which apparently all of the trio like. It's another project by Becky and Joe, and is what the puppet trio was trying to watch in 2.

Thanks for reading! Any advice or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!


End file.
